


Morning Tea(se)

by dreamingthroughwords



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles 2 (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, basically just wanted to write morag and brighid in the morning and it turned into this, felt like writing something light!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:35:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28801419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamingthroughwords/pseuds/dreamingthroughwords
Summary: Brighid wakes up before Mòrag for once, and decides to surprise her Driver with some tea.
Relationships: Kagutsuchi | Brighid/Meleph | Mòrag Ladair
Comments: 6
Kudos: 17





	Morning Tea(se)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Was a bit busy this week and very much missed writing these two...was very happy I had time to write this today. Basically just wanted to write something fun, so here it is!  
> Enjoy!

Though Brighid may not be fond of early mornings, there are some redeeming attributes of being awake while everyone else is asleep.

Such as the rare occasion of rising before Mòrag, who is always apt to stick to a firm schedule. Mòrag always comes to before Brighid, and Brighid always wakes up to a hot tea on her bedside and the sound of her Driver gently flipping the pages of a book she’s currently reading or the paperwork she could never get away from. Brighid would always watch her for a bit before she revealed she was up, taking in the way Mòrag’s eyebrows would furrow in concentration if doing something work-related, or the glint in her amber eyes as the world of a book captured her. It’s an expression that makes Brighid’s heart flutter—free time is a rarity, and to see her Driver so relaxed, so invested in something not work, brings Brighid a sense of happiness she wouldn’t let anyone else know about. 

This morning, though, Mòrag is not currently headfirst into a book, but instead still headfirst nuzzled against Brighid’s chest, arms wrapped around her back, breathing softly in sleep. Brighid is curious as to why their roles are seemingly reversed this morning, but when she checks the time, it just so happens that it’s about twenty minutes before Mòrag always wakes up. Brighid’s not particularly sure what woke her up—maybe it was the good mood from last night carrying over to this morning, or simply her body felt it was rested enough. 

Still, this was the rare opportunity for her to make the morning easier for her Driver for once, instead of the other way around.

Brighid is rather comfortable, and appreciates the warmth that Mòrag is providing her by lying on her chest—though her flames do a well enough job to keep a constant warmth around them, the feel of Mòrag’s touch heats another feeling entirely, one reserved for Brighid, and she does not want to leave the heat of the embrace.

Hm, if she’s careful, she could do everything and sneak back in, but Mòrag is a light sleeper….

Brighid slowly lifts an arm from Mòrag’s back, and when her Driver is still sleeping, she proceeds to shift the other one. She takes a hand and places it on the one Mòrag has resting on her core crystal, gently moving her arm down onto the pillow. 

As Brighid begins to turn fully and get out of bed, she finds herself caught for a moment. Mòrag’s pale skin is illuminated by her azure glow, highlighting the softness of her face in sleep and the muscled tones of her shoulders, the rest of her covered by a blanket. 

Brighid is tempted to pull out her journal and immortalize this moment within the pages, but she thinks this moment is better left in the present.

Brighid manages to pull her gaze away from Mòrag, and she realizes she even had her eyes slightly open to gaze at her Driver. She closes them once again, more comfortable that way. 

There’s no need for light when her ether glows brighter than any industrial manufactured light, so the room is still as dark as it could possibly be as she makes her way to the small kitchenette that is in Mòrag’s chambers. The Royal Chambers are quite large, more room than a single person would ever need, but Brighid could care less about the practicality of it—the rooms are grand and ornate, and rather comfortable. 

The kitchenette isn’t stocked for full meals or anything, just teas or snacks and things that are beneficial to keep close. A pot always lays dormant on the stove—they barely it, with the constant traveling and work—but the tea is always a must when they lay down before rest at night and wake up in the morning.

Brighid lifts the pot to the sink and carefully turns the water on, standing slightly back in case any splashes onto her. Tedious drops from a sink don’t hurt, but she’d just rather have water make its way anywhere on her hair or clothes. Small douses are just a bother, really.

Rather than turn on the stove—though Mor Ardain is known for its technological advancement, that’s all military, appliances are still rather outdated—Brighid just places the pot on top and uses her own skill to begin boiling the water. She channels only a small amount of energy at first, going into the cupboard to grab the teas and the glasses.

They have quite the tea collection in Mòrag’s room—it’s an oddity that one wouldn’t expect of the Special Inquisitor, having a grand selection of teas both imported around Alrest and native to More Ardain. They’d even made it a habit to stop at local markets on their work travels just to see if they could find something not yet in the collection. It’s almost impractical, considering they spend less and less time at the palace these days; but it’s a ritual they’ve had for years, one Brighid quite enjoys, and does not want to see it change any time soon. 

While Brighid is scanning the ever-growing selection of teas, she feels a slight surge of ether within her chest, and she knows her plan has ultimately failed. 

“Are you trying to surprise me?”

Brighid fades out the heat she had been transferring into the water. She turns and finds Mòrag leaning against the wall, dark hair loose around her face, silk shirt clinging to the muscles of her stomach and arms in just the right places.

Maybe Brighid should get up earlier more often.

She smirks and moves to copy Mòrag’s stance; leaning against the stove so they are opposite. 

“I should have known better to try and catch you off guard,” Brighid teases, moving her arms across her chest. 

Mòrag says nothing, just walks over and places bare hands on Brighid’s hips. Brighid is in her nightclothes as well; a slip not as elegant as her usual dress, but of a similar style, only going down to just below her waist, and a v-neck low enough to emphasize her core crystal and shape. 

Brighid reciprocates the motion; appreciating the view of her Driver that only she ever gets to see. Playful smile, amber eyes shining and alert despite having just woken up; the shirt she now notices is unbuttoned at the top, collar uneven on both sides.

“Yes, you should have,” Mòrag teases. She moves just a bit to the left, and Brighid assumes her Driver is going to eliminate the space between them, so Brighid moves to meet her halfway, and—

Mòrag swiftly turns the other direction at the last second, reaching one arm behind Brighid’s back to flick the switch on the stove; reinitiating the water to boil.

“Was something distracting you, Brighid? That seems like something you should have seen coming, really,” Mòrag says, clicking her tongue. 

Brighid rolls her eyes underneath closed lids. Ah, if anyone else knew just how much of a  _ tease  _ Mòrag could be when she was in the mood. 

Two can play at that game.

“Hmph. Was it now?” Brighid responds, and decides to hold Mòrag just a bit tighter. This gets her Drivers attention; quirking an eyebrow at the slightly aggressive gesture. “Well, in that case, I think I could use some practice honing my focus, hm?”

Mòrag blinks, and Brighid is almost certain she can see right through her plan, but only smirks in response. Brighid moves as if she’s about to take them both back towards the main room, but then swiftly turns Mòrag around so that she is now back against the stove. As Brighid makes an attempt to reach the switch; intending to turn it back off, but Mòrag catches her hand midway, and now they’re chest-to-chest, no room at all between them.

It really should be too early for this, Brighid thinks. 

“You are aware my skill is much more apt than an old, rusted appliance?” Brighid says, and 

“I think your attention could be better used elsewhere, don’t you?” Mòrag takes the hand she had intercepted and Brighid’s arm back to her side, pinning Brighid against the stove. 

Brighid takes her hand that isn’t pinned down and places it once again on Mòrag’s hip, pulling her Driver tighter against her even though they couldn’t possibly  _ be  _ any closer, the only space left that between their faces.

“I think so, too,” Brighid closes that final space, meeting their lips together. Mòrag presses her hips against Brighid’s own, and Brighid responds by moving the hand around Mòrag’s hip slightly lower. 

They’ve been so busy recently they hadn’t had any time to enjoy each other's company like this. It appears both of them were much more starved than they had realized. 

Mòrag releases the hand she had pinned behind Brighid in favour of wrapping both hands around Brighid’s waist, and then lifting her up so that Brighid now sits on the counter. Brighid brings the newly freed hand to the back of Mòrag’s neck; pulling her deeper into the kiss. Brighid tugs on her Driver’s hair and Mòrag responds by moving closer in between her legs, causing Brighid to lean back just a bit further.

They feel each other through their own touch and the heat of their ether link; hands trailing down every inch of each other’s bodies. It’s almost like being on the field; dancing around each other and knowing one another’s next move except this is just between them; a battle of its own accord.

Brighid thinks they should take this elsewhere; the hard metal beneath her rather uncomfortable but she hardly cares. Mòrag continues to push her further back; and Brighid takes the hand she had on Mòrag’s hip to place it on the counter to steady herself, expecting to feel cool metal beneath her as she’s almost flat on her back and—

Her hand goes straight into the long-forgotten pot of water, which is on the stove, which they had turned on, and which Brighid was practically laying on.

She immediately yanks her hand out at the slight pain from the slight dousing of her arm, and this sudden action sends a splash of boiling water out of the pot and straight onto her Driver.

Mòrag jumps back, completely letting go of Brighid—to her dismay—eyes widening at the feeling that she was not expecting. Mòrag flinches and grabs her shoulder; which is now wet and where most of the water landed. 

They don’t say anything, just amber eyes meeting Brighid’s hidden gaze. Brighid takes her hand that was spared from the water and turns off the stove. 

She did think she felt warmer than usual…that explains that, then.

Mòrag is the first to move, opening several more buttons on her shirt—not all of them, though, to Brighid’s chagrin—and slides her sleeve off her shoulder, examining if there was any damage. Brighid hops off the stove and smooths out her dress, walking the short distance to her Driver. Her shoulder seemed to have been spared all damage; only slightly red, but not enough to have burnt.

Brighid reaches up and places a hand on the marks, pressing to see if they were tender. Mòrag does not flinch, and instead turns her gaze to examine Brighid’s hand. She’s fine, her ether only slightly dimmed and not as bright from being put out for only a moment. 

“Maybe surprises are not suited towards our best interests,” Mòrag breaks the silence, placing a hand over Brighid’s, still resting on Mòrag’s shoulder.

Brighid shakes her head, moving her other hand to balance on her hip. “No, they really are not.” 

“Still, it was nice, to do something rather unexpected…” her Driver muses, getting seemingly lost in thought for a moment, before continuing. “Maybe it would do to try again tomorrow, but in a more comfortable place than the kitchen…”

Now that is definitely something Brighid can agree on. 

“I believe that  _ would  _ be in our best interest, Lady Mòrag.”

“Noted. Now, what kind of tea would you like?” Mòrag releases her hand and heads towards the kitchen, continuing the morning that Brighid had intended to start.

Brighid shakes her head, fond smile gracing her features as she follows Mòrag into the kitchen.

“I’ll take whichever you’re having, but let  _ me _ handle the water this time.”

Brighid meets Mòrag in the kitchen, stopping beside her as their hips touch together. Mòrag grabs a tea and takes it out of the box, placing it into the mug.

“Of course. It’s much more efficient. That, and I happen to think it tastes better when you manage it.”

Brighid smiles. 

“Please, Lady Mòrag. We both know everything is better when my skill is involved.”

Mòrag laughs softly, taking their mugs over to the stove, not a trace of their earlier disaster in sight. Brighid sends heat into the pot, and neither of them take their eyes off of it, still standing hips together.

“Hear, hear, Brighid. You would be correct on that front.”

**Author's Note:**

> Officially decided one of my headcanons is that these two tease each other relentlessly and it turns into a competition. (Brighid always wins)
> 
> Also, I decided to make a [twitter!](https://twitter.com/quadrupleslash) (if that link does not work, it's @quadrupleslash). Was thinking about it for a while whether I'd make one or not, but ultimately decided to. Not sure how much I'll use it, but wanted to interact a bit more.
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are appreciated, and I hope you're all having a lovely day/night/afternoon/evening wherever you are!


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